The Perfect Woman

Meet Tamara. She’s my friend. And I hate her.

Have you ever had the misfortune to meet the "perfect" woman? I mean the one who is at the gym at six in the morning, has her kids at school in the dent-free minivan by eight, and is at the office by nine, where she leads her department in sales, not only for last fiscal quarter, but for the entire year? Worse, she also has the audacity to be slender and well-dressed. She doesn't look a day older now than she did fifteen years ago.

Have you ever had the misfortune to meet the "perfect" woman?

Oh, and did I mention that exactly one week after Purim, this woman has cleared half her kitchen cabinet space for Passover foods and has started shopping for the Seder? I have a friend like this – I’ll call her Tamara – and just this morning, she emailed me the handy Pesach preparation guide that she developed. I begin printing it out but my cartridge runs out of ink. I replace the cartridge and leave the room, but darned if that thing isn’t still printing a half-hour later. Charles Dickens’ novels aren’t this long. When it’s finally out, I begin reading: "30 days before Pesach: Dust light bulbs in every fixture. Vacuum ceiling air vents." OMG, as my kids would text. Is this her idea of a Purim joke?

The part of me that would rather sit back and watch a chick flick than face the reality that Passover is coming wants to hate Tamara, because to rub kosher salt in the wound, she is also a gourmet cook. Last time we spoke, she casually mentioned plans to finally write that cookbook just so she doesn't have to keep giving out the same recipes over and over to all everyone who asks for them. Naturally, any proceeds from book sales will go to cancer research. It will be hard to find the time for this, since she is also training for a half-marathon.

But how can I hate Tamara? “Hate” is so un-Jewish, and anyway, it’s impossible to hate someone who showed up on my doorstep with hot lasagna for my family when I was in bed with flu. (Thankfully, one of the kids greeted her at the door, sparing me the sight of her in a chic silk dress with high-heeled slingbacks.) Now that I think of it, Tamara was also the one who volunteered to take the kids for a weekend some years back so my husband and I could get away, and then – when my kids were discovered to be lice-infested – didn’t even call me. She just de-loused them herself. It would take a real blackguard to loathe a woman this selfless, this accomplished, and so very, very nice. I tried to comfort myself for being infinitely less organized, less productive, less glamorous and less filled with the milk of human kindness than Tamara by imagining that she is hiding something dark and terrible, such as kleptomania. But oy, that wasn’t even giving her benefit of the doubt, another Jewish virtue where I am deficient.

How can we mere mortal women learn to cope with the existence of these paragons of energy, virtue, organizational skills and – perhaps most unforgivable – weight control, especially as Passover approaches? How can we protect ourselves from feeling like slackers as we serve pre- Passover dinners whose recurring theme is “freezer burn” just to get rid of chametz, while she stays up half the night baking a birthday cake for her kid that looks like a pirate ship?

For years I was a slave to these extremely unhelpful comparisons. No more! Dayenu! Passover is about freedom, which is something we women need to remind ourselves when we are going mano-a-mano with the business side of a sponge. (But think about how strong our arms will be!) Now I give myself pre-Pesach affirmations, including: I am more than justchopped liver! And: If I get through Pesach without driving my family crazy, keep a smile on my face and feel grateful for all that God has given me, I’m going shopping at Nordstrom after the holiday. I find these are very helpful.

This year, I won’t entertain for a second the idea of trying to copy Tamara or anyone else. This year, I have finally figured out that sisterhood may be powerful, but comparisons are poison. My kitchen will never, ever be turned over for Pesach until three days before the holiday, max. I will never make those Passover cakes that require beating a dozen egg whites stiff, because to me, life’s just too short for that sort of activity. Jewish women are really amazing, and we each have our own way of shining, of giving, and of coping with Passover.

Yes, Passover is just a few weeks away, and Tamara is undoubtedly already doing battle with her DustBuster and the basement couches. That’s her choice. Me, I listen to the rabbi who once gave a class saying that outside of the kitchen, cleaning for Passover should take one hour, tops. (I don’t care that this rabbi was then run out of town, never seen or heard from again; I like his policy and I’m sticking to it.)

Groucho Marx famously said, "I wouldn't want to belong to any club that would accept me as a member." Hey, I’m blessed to belong to a group of tremendously accomplished – if occasionally irritating – women who do accept me as a member, and will even de-louse my kids when I’m on vacation. I should complain? I'm a part of the great sisterhood, and we are here for each other. That’s a good place to be.

About the Author

Judy Gruen is the author of several books, including the newly released The Skeptic and the Rabbi: Falling in Love with Faith. Her work has appeared in the Wall Street Journal, Chicago Tribune, Los Angeles Times, Boston Globe, Jewish Action, and many other media outlets. She is also a writing coach and book editor. Read more about her at www.judygruen.com.

The opinions expressed in the comment section are the personal views of the commenters. Comments are moderated, so please keep it civil.

Visitor Comments: 9

(7)
Adara Walker,
October 20, 2014 6:11 AM

You can be my neighbor anytime!

I am absolutely NO good at competing... we would do great as neighbors...

(6)
Alyssa,
March 28, 2014 5:12 PM

thanks!

What a great article! The sentiment is truth and appreciated. As women, we could use many such reminders that we stand together beside one another, each woman in her own. No comparisons!

(5)
Judy Gruen,
March 27, 2014 4:10 PM

Appreciate all these comments!

Dena,I hear you, and my comment about "Tamara's" making exquisite and time-consuming Pesach cakes is just another way for me to work out my total inability to do the same! I love the comment that Pesach should not become Tisha B'Av; we all need to calm down a bit in our ways, right?

(4)
marnie,
March 25, 2014 10:13 PM

LOVE THIS JUDE .........

I KNOW HER ... MANY "HER"LOVE, MARNIE

(3)
Dena - Jerusalem,
March 25, 2014 7:10 PM

Pesach cleaning- women are not the Korban Pesach(Pascal sacrrfice)

I agree with you a hundred percent that Pesach cleaning should not be spring cleaning.But I do think that your remark about life being too short to make fancy Pesach cakes was a not so nice attack on Tamara. It seems to me that even with all her unnecessary Pesach cleaning she is really a ba'alas chesed, who also knows how to use her time very well - the hot lasaga, babysitting for you, de-loused the children, and I'm sure she also does a lot of chesed for others as well.

But again, I agree with you about the spring cleaning. And the late Rav Chiam Pinchas Scheinberg, of blessed memory, Rosh Hayeshiva of Torah Ore, spent a lot of time telling women not to do anything they don't have to do. He said that Pesach should be a time of happiness and joy for women. He used to say, "Don't turn your Pesach into a Tisha B'av!"

Anonymous,
March 27, 2014 6:32 PM

Thoughts

I understand the sentiments behind this article. I think it was meant to be a piece that focused on bringing what you have to the table. However; it came across to me as smarmy/jealous/focusing too much on being competitive with others.

We all have strengths and weaknesses. I wouldn't begrudge someone else's ability to successfully multi-task. Also; remember that things are not always what they seem. How something looks on the outside can be very different from looking at the same situation from the inside. The point: Tamara probably also thinks she falls short too.

(2)
Judith,
March 25, 2014 4:52 AM

Good points

Great article, Judy. Touches on all the little things that could make relationships go sour. Good for you for recognizing the green monster and send it packing. True Ahavas Yisroel!

(1)
Nancy,
March 24, 2014 11:57 AM

I bet Tamara isn't 1/16 as witty as you are!! Did I mention I think you are awesome?!

This year during Chanukah I will be on a wilderness survival trip, and it will be very difficult to properly celebrate the holiday. I certainty won't be able to bring along a Menorah.

So if I am going to celebrate only one day of Chanukah, which is the most significant?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

If a person can only celebrate one day of Chanukah, he should celebrate the first day.

This is similar to a case where a person is in prison, and the authorities agree to permit him to go to synagogue one day. The law is that he should go at the first opportunity, and not wait for a more important day like the High Holidays.

The reason is because one should not allow the opportunity of a mitzvah to pass. Moreover, it is quite conceivable that circumstances will later change and allow for additional observance. Therefore, we do not let the first chance pass. (Sources: Code of Jewish Law OC 90, Mishnah Berurah 28.)

As an important aside, Chanukah candles must be lit in (or at the entrance to) a home rather than out of doors. Thus, you should not light in actual "wilderness," but only after you've pitched your tent for the night.

There may be another reason why the first night is the one to focus on. Chanukah is celebrated for eight days to commemorate the one-day supply of oil that miraculously burned for eight days. But if you think about it, since there was enough oil to burn naturally for one night, nothing miraculous happened on that first night! So why shouldn't Chanukah be just seven days?!

There are many wonderful answers given to this question, highlighting the special aspect of the first day. Here are a few:

1) True, the miracle of the oil did not begin until the second day, and lasted for only seven days. But the Sages designated the first day of Chanukah in commemoration of the miraculous military victory.

2) Having returned to the Temple and found it in shambles, the Jews had no logical reason to think they would find any pure oil. The fact that the Maccabees didn't give up hope, and then actually found any pure oil at all, is in itself a miracle.

3) The Sages chose Chanukah, a festival that revolves around oil's ability to burn, as the time to teach the fundamental truth that even so-called "natural" events take place only because God wants them to.

The Talmudic Sage Rabbi Chanina Ben Dosa expressed this truth in explaining a miracle that occurred in his own home. Once, his daughter realized that she had lit the Shabbos candles with vinegar instead of oil. Rabbi Chanina calmed her, saying, "Why are you concerned! The One Who commanded oil to burn, can also command vinegar to burn!" The Talmud goes on to say that those Shabbos lights burned bright for many hours (Taanit 25a).

To drive this truth home, the Sages decreed that Chanukah be observed for eight days: The last seven to commemorate the miracle of the Menorah, and the first to remind us that even the “normal” burning of oil is only in obedience to God's wish.

In closing, I'm not sure what's stopping you from celebrating more than one day? At a minimum, you can light one candle sometime during the evening, and that fulfills the mitzvah of Chanukah - no “official Menorah” necessary. With so much joy to be had, why limit yourself to one night only?!

In 165 BCE, the Maccabees defeated the Greek army and rededicated the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. Finding only one jar of pure oil, they lit the Menorah, which miraculously burned for eight days. Also on this day -- 1,100 years earlier -- Moses and the Jewish people completed construction of the Tabernacle, the portable sanctuary that accompanied them during 40 years of wandering in the desert. The Tabernacle was not dedicated, however, for another three months; tradition says that the day of Kislev 25 was then "compensated" centuries later -- when the miracle of Chanukah occurred and the Temple was rededicated. Today, Jews around the world light a Chanukah menorah, to commemorate the miracle of the oil, and its message that continues to illuminate our lives today.

A person who utilizes suffering to arouse himself in spiritual matters will find consolation. He will recognize that even though the suffering was difficult for him, it nevertheless helped him for eternity.

When you see yourself growing spiritually through your suffering, you will even be able to feel joy because of that suffering.

They established these eight days of Chanukah to give thanks and praise to Your great Name(Siddur).

Jewish history is replete with miracles that transcend the miracle of the Menorah. Why is the latter so prominently celebrated while the others are relegated to relative obscurity?

Perhaps the reason is that most other miracles were Divinely initiated; i.e. God intervened to suspend the laws of nature in order to save His people from calamity.

The miracle of the Menorah was something different. Having defeated the Seleucid Greek invaders, the triumphant Jews entered the Sanctuary. There they found that they could light the Menorah for only one day, due to a lack of undefiled oil. Further, they had no chance of replenishing the supply for eight days. They did light the Menorah anyway, reasoning that it was best to do what was within their ability to do and to postpone worrying about the next day until such worry was appropriate. This decision elicited a Divine response and the Menorah stayed lit for that day and for seven more.

This miracle was thus initiated by the Jews themselves, and the incident was set down as a teaching for all future generations: concentrate your efforts on what you can do, and do it! Leave the rest to God.

While even our best and most sincere efforts do not necessarily bring about miracles, the teaching is nevertheless valid. Even the likelihood of failure in the future should not discourage us from any constructive action that we can take now.

Today I shall...

focus my attention on what it is that I can do now, and do it to the best of my ability.

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